


The Red Tornado In: Lantern Man (Oh, Where Can You Be?)

by Marshmallowmachinegun



Series: The Red Tornado! [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Scooby Doo - All Media Types, ma hunkel - Fandom, red tornado - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallowmachinegun/pseuds/Marshmallowmachinegun
Summary: Huey wins the chance of a lifetime, when he gets to meet his hero, the Green Lantern!





	The Red Tornado In: Lantern Man (Oh, Where Can You Be?)

**What makes a hero? Is it marvelous strength? The will to crush evil at every turn? A wondrous array of impossible powers? A garish suit and a secret identity? Why NO! A hero is NONE of these things! What makes a hero is that intangible, that ineffable, that indefinable quality that makes a man run into danger where others flee. That makes the powerless stand up to the powerful and say “Hey there bucko, not today”! A hero needn’t be extraordinary, as any ordinary man can be a hero. Take this ordinary man’s hero, Ma Hunkel, otherwise known as The Red Tornado, who along with her kid-sidekicks, The Cyclone Kids (in reality her daughter Sisty and Dinky Jibbet), fight for justice and equity in their little New York neighborhood!**

Abigail Hunkel was having a rather ordinary weekend, for once. With Herman and Huey watching the store for a bit, she was taking the time to clean house. With no major emergencies, she hadn’t had to don her togs as Red Tornado in three days, and she was thankful for the break.

“Oh for goodness’ sake” Ma grumbled as she entered her young daughter’s room. Sisty and Dinky had been playing all morning, until after lunch when Ma chased them out to clean. But the kids had not kept their promise of cleaning up after themselves. Clothes, comics, crayons and other toys were scattered throughout the small room.

“What the-” Smack in the middle of the chaos was her Red Tornado helmet, its normally pristine surface marred by paint, markers, and stamps. Sisty and Dinky had drawn big angry brows above the eyeholes, and rosy cheeks with a lopsided monsterish mouth. Nothing that Ma couldn’t clean, but annoying nonetheless.

“Oy” Tucking the helmet under her arm, she gathered up all of the misplaced toys, placing them back in the wooden box at the foot of Sisty’s bed. She made quick work of tidying the space.  Feeling rather clever, she used the helm to store the soiled clothing. Sisty was a great kid, but Ma did sometimes wish she was a bit cleaner. The women at the factory usually complained about their sons’ rooms being disaster areas while their daughters’ were neat as a pin, but in Abigail’s experience, it was just the opposite.

She carefully stacked the comics on the dresser, chuckling at the covers featuring wacky animals and cowboys whooping it up. Amelia loved her funny pages, and despite her messy nature was very careful with them. She was always eager to show her mother the latest strips. Ma even had some tucked away in her bedside drawers, clippings she and the kids had made during a rainy Sunday that felt like eons ago, before the Red Tornado came into their lives.

Content with her tidying, Ma then made her way down the hall to Huey’s room. He was older, and a little better at cleaning his room, so long as Scribbly hadn’t been over. But Huey was watching the store this morning, and she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get some alone time.

Pointedly ignoring the “No Girls Allowed” sign slapped on the door, Abigail bustled in quickly, pleased that the floor was relatively clean. The desk however, was a mess of papers and crumpled up balls from discarded stories. Some were filled with writing and others just had one or two words. The small jar of india ink that he had been given for his birthday was tipped over, black liquid dripping onto the floor.

“Shoot!” Ma rushed over to right the well, cursing softly as she got ink all over her hands. Thankfully she was wearing a dark green shirt that she wasn’t too fond of, so the stains didn’t bother her so much as they might.

She tsked angrily as the ruined paper went into the trash bin. Despite her annoyance she was genuinely sorry about Huey’s stories being ruined. She hoped none of them were overly important.

After mopping up the spill with one of the cleaning rags she had tucked into her apron pocket, she took stock of the wall above the desk. It was covered in newspaper articles about the Green Lantern. The kids loved that guy, Huey was always talking about him and collected everything he could find. Along with the articles, there were grainy blurred photographs, and drawings done by Scribbly of all three of them punching monsters and cartoonish bank robbers. Despite in fact knowing the man personally, Ma knew shamefully little about her son’s hero. Whenever he talked about him, Huey always got so excited he would bounce from story to story, and it was hard to keep up. But she tried her best.

The wall clock in the kitchen chimed twice, making Ma perk up at the thought of a break. She had set out cleaning after lunch and told herself at two she would get a pot of coffee going.

Once she was back in the kitchen, she tossed the dirty clothes into their respective piles and set the pot in the sink to soak. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to scrub it clean and it very likely wouldn’t be the last. She had removed much more steadfast gunk than fanciful stamps and watercolor before.

Drying her hands, Abby kept busy while the coffee boiled, twisting the dial on the Radiola to find a decent station. She settled on a mid-afternoon drama centering around a masked hero who took pills for strength and wore chainmail armor.

“The hell's my radio show?” She grumbled as she took the pot from the heat, stirring the tiniest amount of sugar and milk into her mug, “Alla that chain stuff sounds heavy.”

Just as she was about to sit down and enjoy her short respite, loud clomping footsteps sounded right outside the door. Before she could discern who was making such a racket, Huey burst through the door with Scribbly in tow. Both were red faced and glassy eyed, jumping up and down with excitement.

“Ma!” Huey shouted, his little voice cracking from the volume “Ma you’ll never guess!” Both Huey and Scribbly then started shouting over each other, giving Ma no chance to really hear either one.

“For goodness’ sake pipe down! And take your shoes off I just mopped!” Ma set her mug down and went to the ice box to the pitcher of lemonade she had made that morning. The kids begrudgingly removed their brown leather shoes and set them by the door as Ma grabbed two glasses and poured the boys a drink. They both gulped down the beverage before Ma had a chance to sit down.

“Okay, please start from the beginning.” she said, trying to calm the boys with her tone.

“We was in the store-”

“Wait, who’s minding the store right now?” She knew that without Huey there, Herman would almost certainly have taken off to some seedy gambling establishment or horse track.

“Weeellll, about that. See, Uncle Herman had a, a ‘business meeting’ he said he had to attend to, so it was just me an Scrib-”

“You mean it’s empty?!” she interrupted.

“I put up the ‘Out to Lunch’ sign, but Ma, you’re missing the point!”

She sighed, and crossed her arms, “Okay, so what’s the point then?”

He was so excited he kept stumbling over himself as he spoke, “We had the radio on while we was stockin the shelves, and, and they announced that, that the first person what phoned into the studio won a, a prize! I just happened to be right next to the payphone,  _ and _ I just happened to have a couple dimes on me, so I called in and, Ma, guess what? I won!”

“That’s all fine hon, but why does this lead to you closin the store and runnin in here like yer britches was on fire?”

“The prize, Ma! The prize! The winner gets to meet the Green Lantern! In person!”

“Oh my, that  _ is _ quite the event!” she had met him several times herself, even gone on missions with him and the rest of the Justice Society, but Huey wasn’t to know about any of that.

“So when is he comin over? Is it today?”

Huey shook his head and chuckled, as if his mother had said something quite silly. “No, Ma, we’re to go to the WXYZ studios next Saturday, at 4 o’clock.” he stopped suddenly, a worried expression falling over his face “Oh no! I didn’t ask where it is!”

“Don’t worry, libling, you let your ol’ Ma take care of everything, just see that you’re ready to go on Saturday.”

“Scrib can come too, right?” Huey asked, hopefully, pointing to his sheepish friend.

“Of course. And Dink, and everybody else too. We’ll make a day of it!” She pulled her son up in a big hug, “Now get on back to the store, I’ll be along shortly.”

 

* * *

 

“Gosh darn it, Sisty, will you hold still?”

Huey had gotten everyone up shortly before sunrise. Ma placated the sleepy children and irritable Gus and Herman with coffee and eggs with bacon. Huey had hardly touched his food and practically vibrated from his excitement. Beguiling everyone with stories from the papers about The Green Lantern and how he was the best hero of all time, and how he wanted to be “just like him when he growed up.”

“What about your ol’ uncle Gus? Don’t you wanna take after me too?” Ma responded before Huey did by slapping him upside the head with a rolled up newspaper. “Ain’t nobody wanna be like you ya lummox, clear out and get dressed, and wash your darn faces!”  Ma added as they slinked off, taking their coffee to go.

Huey and Scribbly were old enough to get themselves ready, and finished their food at lightning speed before racing off to scrub up and change into the stiff, dressy clothes normally reserved for Saturdays. Dinky and Sisty however, had to be cleaned in the tub.

Thankfully both of them were still too sleepy to argue, and mainly grumbled at the application of soap and warm water. Amelia’s usually unruly hair was tied back with a scarlet ribbon, and Ma twirled her fingers through each red ringlet until they fell neat and shiny on her shoulders.

Dinky whined as Ma ran a brush through his hair, leaving it flat and neat on his head. (Although as soon as she turned her back he mussed it up again.)

Huey came skidding out of the hallway shortly after the kids were dressed, wearing one sock and his tie crooked. “Maaa hurry up! We gotta go!”  

“Okay! Okay, watch the kids while I get ready.”  Ma stopped long enough to straighten out Huey’s tie and smooth a cowlick standing straight up off his head. She kissed his cheek, making him scream from disgust and pull away, declaring his face dirty and in need of another washing.

Now alone for the first time since early morning, Abby could finally get dressed. While she really didn’t have any fancy clothes, mainly house dresses, skirts, and blouses with her usual sensible stockings and shoes; she did have a nice blue dress, cobalt in shade, with little flowers all over. She rarely wore it though, it was too nice for just any old day, but today seemed appropriate. Adding dark stockings and black shoes to her outfit, she finished with a beret cap of heavy blue wool and a spritz of violet perfume.

“Ma!” Huey had clomped down the hallway, and was now knocking as politely as his impatience allowed. “Maaa, are you ready!”

“Just a moment!” She yelled back, picking one of her large carpet bags in dark green, big enough to carry everything she needed, plus her costume. Ma had become accustomed to always bringing her Red Tornado gear, even on days when she would rather do anything other than wear it. And she prayed she didn’t need to - this was Huey’s day.

“Tell yer uncles t’ put the closed sign up please!” She slipped her shoes on and opened the door, Huey still stood there, hopping from foot to foot. “‘s already done Ma! Lez go!” He grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the living room.

Gus and Herman stood awkwardly, both in clean button up shirts with starched collars. Herman had even donned a fedora of dark brown felt. Dinky and Sisty looked adorable in their Temple clothes, despite her daughter’s constant squirming. Huey pulled at his tie and repeatedly smoothed his hair, he seemed so nervous and yet so excited.

They all looked better than Ma could have imagined. It was enough to bring a tear to her eyes, her family was so rarely together, and never this clean and well behaved. She wished she could take a portrait of the moment.

She was about to say something, about how proud she was of them and how great they all looked, but before she could open her mouth a goose-like horn honked from outside.

“Aw heck, that's our ride!” She ushered her motley group outside with a waving hand “C’mon it ain’t polite to keep a man waitin!”

As they exited the building, already waiting for them was a yellow cab, just large enough for the group to squeeze into. The cabbie was a funny little man in a derby hat, striped yellow turtleneck sweater, and leather suspenders, who called out to Ma as soon as he saw her.

“Abby! Long time no see! Everybody pile on in, this ol’ jalopy’s gonna take yez on an adventure to beat all!”

Ma went over to the driver’s side door, and hugged the little man through his opened window. “Thanks for doin this, Doiby, I dunno how we’d’a got halfway ta anywheres without you an yer cab today.”

“Nonsense!” he laughed as she got in the passenger seat beside him, and set Sisty on her lap, “Any friend o’ my friend’s a friend o’ mine, my friend!” he touched a finger to the side of his nose and winked at Ma.

They drove for some time, the cab jockey telling them tales of strange customers he’d had over the years.

“His name was Doiby Dickles too?!” shouted Dinky, incredulously, interrupting one such story.

“Well, it turned out he was jus’ tryin to lure in me best friend fer a trap. You mighta heard of him? Goes by th’ Green Lantrin?”

At this Huey shot up in his seat squeezed between his uncles, and practically shouted “YouknowGreenLantern?” so fast it was hard to discern any individual word.

“Why, know ‘im? ‘E’s me bestest friend! Why, we’ve had all  _ sorts  _ of adventures, me an the Lantrin. There was this one time when…” he continued on in that vein for the next hour of traffic, regaling Huey and the rest with his many travails in superherodom, the little boy hanging on every single word like it was coming from the mouth of God Himself.

Soon enough, the buildings rose about them as they entered the Upper East Side, and then, before they knew it, they were stopping.

“We’re here a bit early, don’t you think?” asked Ma

“Is this the studio?” shouted Huey excitedly

“No, no, no” the funny little cabbie said “There’s hours left to go, and ya  _ gotta _ take in the sights while yer here! This, fer example, is the Empire State Building. Tallest in the whole world, an they lets ya go right up to the top!”

The idea of going to the very top of such a massive structure excited the kids to no end, they immediately took Ma by both of her hands and dragged her along.

“Alright! Alright! Kids I’m comin’” She laughed, “You lot are gonna pull my arms clean off.”

The lobby was packed with people, everyone running about, gawking at the shining walls, gleaming marble floors, and the pristine American flags hanging from the ceiling. The elevators dinged incessantly, intermingled with the canned music to alleviate the boredom of the long ride to the top.  

They joined a larger group in front of one of the elevators, eagerly awaiting their turn to ride. They had all been in an elevator before, but never one this fast or for this long. Despite the regularity of Ma’s high flying adventures with the Cyclone Kids, she was still excited.

“All aboard” cried the operator when it was their turn to ride. The gang piled into the elevator, something of a tight fit, the doors closed, and they felt the familiar sinking feeling in their stomachs as the thing began to rise. Up, and up it went, for what seemed like an eternity, soft music playing over a tinny speaker in the corner, the operator silent, facing away from them, not inviting any kind of conversation.

When finally they reached the observation deck, the doors opened, and they spilled out of the little box, awestruck immediately at the views around them.

Huey ran to the ledge, where binoculars stood for gazing out over the city. After Ma put the requisite coins in, and Gus held him up to look through, he began scanning the skyline, “ooh”ing and “aah”ing at the grand architecture and spectacular vistas. After a moment, he stopped his patter, and the breath left him in a gasp.

“What is it?” asked Ma, slightly worried he’d seen something a little boy shouldn’t.

“It’s the Lantern! Look!” Huey pulled away from the binoculars and pointed at a distant part of the city skyline. They all aimed their gazes in the direction he indicated, and sure enough, there was a bright green glow zipping back and forth through the noontime sky. Huey went back to the binoculars.

“It’s really him Ma it’s really him!” he was breathless with excitement, and she gently reminded him that he would be meeting the man up-close in just a few hours, to which he only replied with the biggest grin she’d ever seen on him.

 

* * *

 

“Youse must be hungry after all o’ that sightseein’!” Doiby announced as they piled into the cab, before anybody could say a word. “Let’s getcha to a li’l place I know what makes the best Italian food in the city” he pronounced “Italian” with a long “I”, and it made Sisty giggle.

Telling more stories along the way, Doiby drove them to the Lower East Side, and parked in front of a small, nondescript door that said simply “Colombo’s” in gold-leaf paint. A small clapboard sign read “Daily Specials” in white paint, and listed everything from spaghetti with meatballs to veal and garlic bread.

The cabbie got out of the car, taking off his derby hat as he knocked, and everybody else climbed out as well, standing as still and politely as they could. After a moment or two a short, sallow-faced man with slicked back black hair opened it, took one look at him, and brightened.

“Doiby Dickles, if it ain’t my old pal! Come in! Come in!” looking at the Hunkels and Jibbets, he said happily “They with you? Everybody, come inside out of this cold, any friend of Doiby is family at Colombo’s, see?” The short man threw the door open with flourish and beckoned the whole gang to come inside. As they filed past him one by one, the kids sniffing like bloodhounds on a hunt, Doiby conversed excitedly with the owner.

The restaurant wasn’t very large, but it was warm and full of delicious scents, cooking sauces, roasting meats, and baking bread, all wafting through the air. The floors were of slightly scuffed wood, but were scrubbed so clean it almost put Ma to shame, and the walls were papered in deep red, paintings and portraits decked throughout.

Off to the side by the curtained windows, small tables with checkered cloths and little red candles were unoccupied, the lunch counter with stools lined up in front of it, however, had several patrons, each eating quietly and listening to the radio show playing behind the bar.

The owner had them all sit at a large, round table, the only one fit for a family or large group. The tablecloth was nicer as well, red with golden flowers and small white birds. Instead of a singular red candle, a tall white one burned, placed delicately next to a small vase full of daisies.

Without even ordering, a waiter began bringing them foods of varying types - meats and vegetables and breads, with sauces and oils and cracked pepper and cheese - red wine for the adults, grape juice for the kids, soon the whole party was having a raucously good time, swapping stories and dishes, barely noticing the passage of time until Doiby pulled out a pocket watch and announced “It’s almost time, kids! Gotta get goin or we’ll be late!”

Now thoroughly stuffed, they all piled back into the taxi, and headed toward midtown. As they approached the radio tower, Huey grew more and more excited, and by the time they parked, he was jittering with glee. Doiby offered to wait outside, saying he’d met the Lantern hundreds of times, and didn’t need to see him again today, and besides, he had a cab to watch out for and didn’t know how long they’d take.

Inside the lobby, a woman sat behind a desk. Ma approached her and asked where the Green Lantern was to be.

“Green Lantern? I don’t- Oh! You must mean the contest! Yes, is one of you Huey?”

Huey stepped forward, trembling, “Hello ma’am, yes, I’m Huey Hunkel, I was the first to call in to the contest?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Hornsby, the station manager, should be along shortly to greet you. In the meantime, would any of you children like a sodapop?”

Several minutes passed, the children finishing their treats, before a middle-aged gentleman in a pin-striped suit and homburg hat approached the group from the bank of elevators.

“My apologies for keeping you all waiting” he said “the business of radio is non-stop, I am afraid. Anyway, which of you is Huey?”

 

* * *

 

The eight of them stood for a bit, listening to the music coming from the speaker on the wall of Mr. Hornsby’s 4th floor office. It was a vocal jazz number, a woman scatting out syllables in stacatto rhythm. The children began to get antsy, staring at the door and shifting their weight from leg to leg. Gus and Herman were conversing with the station manager about some cockamamie business proposition, when the suddenly there was a sound behind the group, halfway between a low buzzing and a soft breeze through a copse of trees, accompanied by the scent of an ironworks. Huey was the first to turn, and he shouted “It’s him!”

As the others spun confusedly, they saw a man, surrounded by a brilliant green glow, passing  _ through _ the wall, as if it were no more than illusion. He wore a red poet’s shirt and tight trousers the same shade as his glow, tall red boots and a purple-and-green cape which swirled about him in an intangible wind. As his head came through, they could see he had light blond hair, and a purple domino mask upon his face. On his left middle finger he wore a green ring, which spewed from itself a cold green flame, the source of his glow. It  _ was _ him. The Green Lantern.

Everybody, needless to say, was  _ thoroughly _ impressed.

Striking a rather heroic pose, his fists on his hips, feet at shoulder width, he scanned the group with fiery green eyes.

“Which one of you boys is Huey Hunkel?” he asked in as deep a tenor as he could muster.

Huey swallowed hard, and stepped forward, holding out his trembling right hand.

“H-h-hell-lo, sir,” he began, “I’m Huey. I’m your, your biggest…” his voice trailed off quite of its own volition as his mouth kept moving wordlessly.

The Lantern smiled wide, straight white teeth glinting as he held out his own hand and shook the boy’s. “A pleasure to meet you.” he said. “Mister Hornsby tells me that you-”

At that moment, the music stopped, the woman’s voice replaced by a shouting man’s.

“URGENT BULLETIN! AN UNIDENTIFIED CREATURE DESCRIBED AS LARGE AND WHITE-SKINNED WITH THE SHAPE OF A MAN IS DESTROYING CARS AND BUILDINGS ALIKE ON 5TH AVENUE! ATTEMPTS BY POLICE TO PACIFY THE CREATURE HAVE SO FAR PROVEN FRUITLESS!”

Before the bulletin could even continue, the mystery man had let go Huey’s hand, and was racing for the wall he’d entered through. With a flash of green flame, he was gone, as suddenly as he had arrived. Out the window he could be seen flying toward the street below. 5th Avenue, as it happened.

Huey stood there, his hand still outstretched, shaking slightly. Ma crossed the room quickly and pulled him up in a hug. His face was wet with tears he wouldn’t want the others to see, so she buried his face in her shoulder until the moment had passed. She realized then that the station manager was in the middle of apologizing profusely to the group, and to her in particular.

“...perhaps,” he continued, “a tour of the studios? Of course it’s no consolation, but circumstances being what they are…” he gave a nervous laugh that implored them to accept.

Setting down her now somewhat calmed son, Abigail turned toward Mr. Hornsby and smiled graciously, wheels turning in her head “Thank you so much, yes, we would love to have the grand tour. Would you terribly mind if I ducked off to powder my nose before we started?”

 

* * *

 

Several minutes later, when she still hadn’t returned, Mr. Hornsby suggested they begin without her, assuring them his assistant could show her the way when she returned. Gus quickly agreed for the lot, and opened the door, but stopped short when he saw what stood on the other side.

The Red Tornado!

“Hiya kids!” the hero began, forcing past the dumbfounded man into the office, waving a suede-gloved hand at the children. “My friend The Lantrin asked me to entertain ye’s while he’s off fightin that ol’ monster fella!”

Dinky and Sisty, cottoning on to what she was doing almost instantly, began jumping up and down with feigned excitement, shouting things like “Yay!” and “It’s the Red Tornado!” and “My favorite!” while the station manager merely blustered with confusion.

Huey seemed less than enthused, however, standing next to the office table with his hands in his trouser pockets, reddened eyes downcast. The Tornado cast about for some sort of way to catch his attention, and her eyes lit on a large phonebook on the table near a telephone. She grabbed it up and with an “I seen this at a circus once!” she tore it in half, cover and all, much to the chagrin of Mr. Hornsby, whose book it evidently was, given his groan of “ooohh”.

While Scribbly and the small kids were delighted, Huey was only mildly piqued by her strongman display. She knew it would take a bit more to impress her depressed offspring.

“Watch out overhead!” she said, and took two long strides before leaping over the heads of Herman and Mr. Hornsby, somersaulting mid-flight before landing on the tips of her bootied feet behind the office couch and going into a bow, prompting the lot to begin clapping. When she raised her head, she saw even Huey was halfheartedly joining the applause.

‘Still not enough’ she thought, grabbing up a rolodex, stapler, and small lamp off the nearby desk, yanking the cord out of the wall (much to the station manager’s further annoyance), and proceeded to juggle the objects while twirling about on one leg, kicking the other out for balance. After thoroughly dizzying herself, she tossed the items onto the nearby couch one by one and then cartwheeled across the room, grabbing up the two small children, one in each hand, and tossed them in the air, now juggling  _ them _ . Once, twice, three, four, five times she flung them up and caught them in the opposite hand, the tykes roaring with laughter while the others stood speechless, eyes wide at the feat of strength and dexterity.

“MISTER TORNADO, IF YOU PLEASE!” came the distressed voice of Mr. Hornsby, stopping her short in her act, “Perhaps you might do something a bit less… perilous… and regale us with one of your adventures?”

Abigail set the children down, now scrambled as breakfast eggs, and took a knee in the center of the group, waving them all to gather more closely around her.

“Well, there was this one time, ya see. I was bein chased by the coppers, an I ran into this big park. Well, it turnt out, it weren’t no park at all, but a zoo!” she looked Huey right in his eyes, hoping to see some amount of joy there, and was welcomed with a bit of that glint she’d come to know in his short life.

“They was on me tail, an I run around a corner, just a few seconds, maybe a minute at most, to think of some kinda plan.” she continued.

“How’d you get away?” Huey asked.

“Why, I swapped clothes with the gorilla, an let him free!”

“A gorilla?!” shouted Sisty, who hadn’t been there for that particular adventure.

“Well, it was the only animal nearby what could fit in the long johns!”

The children burst out laughing, even Scribbly, though the incident had, indirectly, nearly cost him his job at the Despatch.

“Yeah, they chased that poor fella down an-” the Tornado was interrupted by a loud CRASH which shook the room, followed by several BANGs from somewhere close by. Her helmeted head spun in the direction of the sounds, her words forgotten.

“Stay here, everybody, I got this” she commanded, running out the door. The group, of course, followed closely behind.

The sounds, unabated, were coming from an office several doors down, and Red Tornado wasted no time in investigating.

Throwing the door open, she was greeted by the sight of a gigantic man-shaped… thing. Its skin was white as snow, and its clothes were torn and rotten. Likely, it had come in through the gaping hole that now stood in the middle of the office’s outer wall. Between it and the group was Green Lantern, just standing up from what must have been quite the fall. He turned to look at them, and just as he did, the creature lifted up a large wooden desk, not unlike the one in Mr. Hornsby’s office, with supernatural speed and slammed it over the superhero’s head, sending him crumpling to the ground, this time seemingly for good.

“Solomon Grundy” the thing croaked, its voice like a dozen frogs dying in unison. Its rheumy eyes locked on the group, and it took one lumbering step toward them.

“Born on a Monday” it continued, with an accent that somehow made the words rhyme. The hulking beast was reciting poetry, of all things. Red Tornado knew she was all that stood between it and her family, both figuratively and literally, and she stepped forward, hoping to draw its attention.

“Hey! Shakespeare! Over here!” she called out, flinging herself toward the overturned desk, and rolling behind it for cover. Fortunately, the man-thing whirled in her direction, its tattered black garb swirling about it with the speed of its movements.

‘Damnation, this thing is fast!’ Ma thought, ‘I’ll just haveta be faster.’

“Christened on Tuesday” it carried on its recitation even as it slammed two gigantic, parchment-white fists through the wooden desk, shattering it to pieces. At the same moment, Red Tornado leapt from her crouch up to its shoulders, holding on like she might a bucking bronco and flipped over it, using its flat head as a springboard for her hands. She landed on the wooden table behind it, but she was facing the wrong direction. Attempting a spinning kick into its midsection, she found the beast was expecting her and it nearly grabbed her leg, surprising Ma and leaving her little option but to pratfall to the hardwood floor out of its reach. Flat on her back, she was prone, and the thing took one long step over the table, making to crush her beneath an enormous square foot shod in a decaying black leather boot. Abigail struggled not to curse and did the only thing she could, rolling to her right, managing to get herself standing again, her back to the outer wall, only just in time to leap out of the way of the monster, which was barrelling toward her with inhuman speed.

“Married on Wednesday!” it cried out as it ran past her and through the hole in the wall it had created just moments before, tumbling to the street four stories below. Despite the large fall it just took, the strange man-like monster wasn’t dead. Or maybe it was, but either way, it was getting back up.

The Tornado took one look back at her family, and one look out at the street, where the creature was already starting to rise with a groggy “Took ill on Thursday”, and she dove out after it.

Huey gasped, and ran toward the wall to look after the masked hero, suddenly relieved to see that Red Tornado had landed safely, albeit a bit clumsily, on the awning above the WXYZ tower entrance, and was bouncing to the street only a few feet down. By now, the monster was up on its feet, and stalking toward the mystery man, who ran right at it full-boar, only to slide at the last moment, like a pro-baseball player going into home plate, between the thing’s tree-trunk legs. It bent in half trying to catch her, but she was out of reach and on her feet in a trice.

“Grew worse on Friday” it grumbled, standing up and turning to face Abigail. She looked to her left and right, searching for some sort of weapon, or defense, then took a leaping step backward into the street, putting up her fists as if to fight the thing hand-to-hand.

“Died on Saturday” croaked the frog-voice as it stepped toward her, raising a fist in the air for a hammer-blow. Red Tornado began shuffling her feet like a boxer, skipping back just out of its reach as again, and again, its boulder-hands came at her.

“Buried on-” at that moment, a dump truck sped through the empty street, slamming into the gargantuan, and missing Abby by inches. The thing was splattered for yards, plantlike entrails and torn black cloth painted on the pavement. The truck didn’t even slow down, merely honking its loud horn.

“The roadway” She continued for the creature, surveying the mess “That was the end of Solomon Grundy.”

 

* * *

 

Ma Hunkel arrived at the room where the action had occurred several minutes later, her costume and helmet safely tucked into her voluminous bag. She made as if she’d gotten lost trying to find the gang, and with all the excitement, nobody questioned her story.

Mr. Hornsby was bent over Green Lantern, someone having pulled the wreckage of the desk off him in the interim. He was just beginning to wake, shaking his bruised head to ward off the grogginess he doubtless felt. His bleary eyes lit on Ma, and before he could speak, the station manager said “It was good thinking you sent your mystery man pal to fill in while you were occupied. He fought off that beast and saved us all!”

The Lantern looked sheepish then, and gave Ma a look which said thank you before shakily rising to his feet and announcing to the room “I’m sorry I can’t stay, there’s quite the mess to clean up now.”

Looking at Huey, he said “I, uh… I wish I could have given you a better day than this turned out. Maybe we can-”

The eleven-year old cut him off, grinning wide “Are you kidding? This was the best day of my  _ life _ !”

 

* * *

 

“Oh for goodness sake” Ma grumbled as she entered Sisty’s room. The Kids had been playing all morning, until after lunch when Ma chased them out to clean. Once again, they had not kept their end of the bargain in cleaning up after themselves.  Toys, clothes, and odds and ends were strewn everywhere. Ma carefully stacked the comic books back up onto the dresser, and placed the toys back in their allotted chest, before making her way toward Huey’s room.

As ever ignorant of the “No Girls Allowed” sign slapped on the door, she entered the room, finding the floor clean as ever, the desk a mound of half-written stories. The small jar of ink was thankfully stoppered and upright. Looking up at the wall above the desk, she stopped short and gasped.

There, amidst the articles about Green Lantern, the blurred images and drawings, directly in the center, sat a full front page photograph. It was her, squaring off with Solomon Grundy the weekend before. Beside it was a new drawing, obviously a Scribbly Jibbet original, of Red Tornado and Huey, back to back, fists raised as if ready to take on the world.

Tears welling up in her eyes, Abigail quietly left the room, and shut the door.

**Author's Note:**

> For more Red Tornado, you can go here: mahunkel.imgur.com


End file.
